Gauntlet - Rise of the Mechanist
by modus669
Summary: Sasha Petrovich, code named Gauntlet, discovers that leaving his homeland for the United States may not be the escape he had hoped for, as ghosts from his past return to haunt the mechanical hero.
1. Chapter 1

_[[This Champions Online story is purely a work of fan fiction, I do not own any rights to the Champions Online universe or any of the organizations, characters, or locations portrayed within. Please don't sue me. I'm broke anyway.]]_

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Sasha was strapped down to the table, arms and legs spread apart spread-eagle and held motionless by metal clamps locked over each limb. He could see the shadowy form of his tormentor looming over him. His features were obscured by the bright lights behind him. Only his outline and the glimmer of his large spectacles were clearly visible. The faceless villain chuckled menacingly and drew away out of view. Sasha's vision was soon replaced by several large, robotic arms. Each metal hand was tipped with a hideous array of blades, needles, and other unidentifiable metal implements which glimmered in the near-blinding light above. There was a brief pause, and then the machines whirred into action. Blades spun and metal clamps clicked and clutched as the robotic arms descended upon Sasha's prone form. A heavy, repetitive pounding sound echoed throughout the room.

"Nyet!"

Sasha woke with a shout. One arm flailed in front of him to shield him from the horrible machines coming down on him. The lamp on the small table next to Sasha's bed had been crushed as Sasha's metal fist passed through it effortlessly and into the wall. The sound of crumbling ceramic bits broke Sasha from his trance. He looked around, panting heavily, still a bit dazed. The pounding sound from his dream remained, further adding to the large man's confusion. A moment later the door to Sasha's bedroom flew open, nearly taken off its hinges by the determined kicks from the figure beyond. Light from the hallway beyond flooded the room, and a vaguely humanoid form filled the doorway. They were clutching a large handgun in a ready, defensive posture.

"Christ! Sasha! Are you alright?"

The concerned tone in Pack Rat's voice helped Sasha fully regain his senses. The large Russian forced his breathing down to a slower pace and nodded to the figure in the doorway.

"Dah. I am alright comrade."

Pack Rat relaxed, lowered his revolver and eased into the room. The ears perched atop his rodent-like head were flattened back in a display of concern, and his pink hairless tail swayed behind him, twitching through the air erratically. Pack was wearing only his boxers, and looked somewhat comical clad only in those and carrying his huge revolver. The brown-furred humanoid rodent sat on the edge of the bed and patted Sasha on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Another nightmare," Pack asked.

Sasha nodded but didn't immediately reply. He was still trying to shake the horrific images from his mind.

"The machines again," Pack leaned in, peering at his upset roommate.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry pal. I can't imagine…"

"It is alright. I'll be okay."

Pack Rat leaned around to look at Sasha's left arm.

"Um. You're left hand is still stuck in the wall."

Sasha turned his head to the left, craning his neck to look around the bulky metallic casing that housed the mechanical workings within his shoulder. Sure enough, there was his fist, buried about nine inches into the wall, having effortlessly driven past the wall panel and sheet rock. Sasha grumbled in frustration and moved to carefully extract his massive metal fist from the wall.

"Sorry Pack. I will go to hardware store after work and get materials to repair wall."

"Don't sweat it, man. Hell I nearly blew a hole in the wall of the main room when I was working on a new type of core for my revolver rounds. " Pack Rat smiled, revealing a row of sharp-looking white teeth.

Sasha was forced to chuckle despite himself as he shook the sheet rock dust from his hand. "

You gonna try and go back to sleep?" Pack Rat asked.

"Nyet," Sasha shook his head, "It is close enough to work time anyway. Might as well stay up."

"Groovy. I'll start some coffee."

Pack Rose and moved to exit the room. He paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"It's over Sasha. You're safe here. That psycho is a world away."

"I wish it were that simple comrade."

"Yeah. I know. Wait… did you call me com-rat?" Pack giggled as he left the room.

Sasha carefully eased up out of bed and headed for the bathroom sink. His mechanical arms clanked and clattered in a most un-subtle fashion as he moved. The chains and gears which powered his massive limbs afforded the Russian cyborg tremendous strength, but were unbelievably bulky. Sasha eased through the bathroom door sideways and splashed some water on his face. He had to be careful not to strike the sink, lest he leave huge gouges in the porcelain.

Sasha looked in the mirror as he wiped his face with a small towel. Even before the horrific events that bestowed him with his tremendous strength the Russian was an imposing figure of a man. He stood tall and solidly built from years working alongside his father as a construction worker. Bright green eyes gazed out from beneath the bangs of his dark brown hair which was shoulder length, straight, and usually unkempt from long days with a hard hat crammed down on top of it. While his chiseled face was typically kept clean-shaven, his body, especially his chest, fell on the hirsute side of things. This served to only partially conceal the long pale surgical scars which ran the length of his torso, spine, and legs.

His most striking features, of course, were the huge machines clamped to his body where his flesh and blood arms once resided. Sasha's arms and hands ironically resembled construction equipment more than actual arms. They were literally bolted in place, with a faint patina of mostly dried blood always rimming the border of man and machine. Their silvery-colored casing protected the internal workings, but the occasional gap still revealed the pistons, chains, and gears which provided the motive power behind the huge contraptions. Sasha had later learned that his metal parts were mostly comprised of a nearly indestructible alloy of steel and the rare element Questionite. At least the psychopath who had done this to him wasn't a cheapskate.

The shadowy figure from his nightmare had removed Sasha's original limbs and a most gruesome manner. Over the course of several days the automated arms remade Sasha into a powerful blending of man and machine. Besides the obvious changes other more subtle modifications had been made to the unfortunate man's body. His spine and lower body had been reinforced with metals similar to the arms themselves to support the force that his new arms could put forth. Strange machines had been implanted within his torso and integrated with his internal organs. These bizarre devices somehow filtered and converted Sasha's natural fluids into the lubricants and hydraulic liquids that kept the arms moving smoothly. If one were to listen closely they could be heard clicking, whirring, and humming within his chest. All through those first days of torment not one ounce of anesthesia had been used.

Sasha lived with his unusual roommate in Millennium City, formerly known as Detroit. Millennium City was an epicenter for superhuman activity, and boasted the largest population of so-called super heroes of any city in the United States, and likely the world. After having left Russia following the traumatic events that resulted in his phenomenal strength, coming to Detroit seemed to be the logical choice for the cyborg.

Sasha finished freshening up and got dressed for work. His arms made wardrobe choice a tricky affair. Sleeves were simply out of the question. In the months since he arrived in Millennium City Sasha had invested heavily in tank tops in various primary colors. Pants were much easier to deal with thankfully. Sasha favored heavily made jeans, or anything that could stand up to the rigors of his rugged lifestyle. Sasha slipped on a tank top and a clean pair of jeans and headed out of his room. In the main room of the basement apartment Sasha's ratling roommate was finishing up a pot of coffee and getting a couple of cups poured. Not long after fleeing Russia for the United States Sasha has been placed with Pack Rat on a temporary basis by UNTIL (the United Nations Tribunal on International Law). Temporary had turned into semi-permanent as the cyborg had found few others willing to rent to him out of fear of the property damage he might inflict.

"Sugar?" Pack asked Sasha. He rubbed his solid green eyes blearily, being still not fully awake.

"Nyet. Black as usual." Sasha replied.

The rat and the Russian had gotten along surprisingly well, despite the fact that UNTIL hadn't really asked Pack's permission when placing Sasha with him. Both of them fell on the unusual side of things as far as appearances went, and a sort of sympathetic camaraderie had developed between the mechanical man and the rodent in the months since Sasha had arrived.

After slamming down a steaming cup of black coffee Sasha gathered up his tool belt, yellow hard hat, safety goggles, and bright orange vest and began to get ready for work. His tools consisted mostly of large, solidly built pry bars and wrenches along with other assorted essentials for construction work. The vest, hat, and goggles were of the usual sort of standard issue safety gear for hazardous construction work.

"That orange vest makes you look like one of those trustee workers from the jail downtown. I think I left a cup lying on the floor over there. Why doncha go pick that up?"

Pack Rat chuckled at Sasha without looking up from the table he was hunched over. The rodent was always fiddling with one firearm or another. Sasha had never had any use for guns either before coming to America or since. Growing up in Russia near the border with Ukraine he had seen enough of the damage guns caused and so never had any desire to touch them.

"Hah. You are funny rat. Might want to hide though. I hear health inspector is coming to apartment complex today."

Sasha and Pack traded laughs and a couple of less than polite gestures as the robotic Russian stomped up the stairs leading to the door of their shared basement apartment. After locking the heavy metal door behind him Sasha stepped from the dim light of the basement and into the early morning light of Millennium City. The sun had only just peeked over the horizon, and the tall structures of the city still kept most of the streets shrouded in long shadows. In spite of the early hour the streets were already humming with the activity of citizens on their morning commutes. The city rarely truly slept anyway.

Sasha squinted a bit and stepped from the shadows and into the sunlight that bathed the east to west thoroughfare that would take him close to the site his employers were currently working at. He lowered his safety goggles over his eyes and positioned himself near the edge of the sidewalk. A small group of people stopped to look at the imposing man. Super humans were not an unusual sight on the streets and skies of Millennium City by any means. Also, recent advancements in technology made cyborgs common enough to not illicit stares, but Sasha's modifications were unusual when compared to the sleek, high tech looking prosthetics that other bionically enhanced people tended to sport. Thus, he tended to draw a lot of curious looks.

The burly cyborg paid the onlookers no mind as a lull in the traffic gave him the opening he was looking for. Sasha kicked off the curb, launching himself into the flow of cars. His crude industrial bionic enhancements whirred into action with and audible metallic grinding sounds. With his robotic parts fully engaged Sasha could easily keep pace with the cars around him. Each stride propelled the mechanical man along at a dizzying pace. His arms clanked and rattled loudly as they pumped rhythmically.

Then came the pain.

Sasha's metallic parts had been crammed in and attached to his body with all the surgical precision of a chain saw. When doctors in the United States first examined him they had been shocked and appalled at the cruel manner in which the Russian had been modified, and similarly impressed at how well he coped with the persistent discomfort. Pack Rat would later jokingly chalk it up to good old fashioned Russian stubbornness. Regardless, any medical attempts at mitigating the pain of Sasha's crude-but-efficient modifications had been stymied by the internal systems that had been installed and linked to his vital organs. While they quickly filtered toxins and other contaminants from his system, making him very resistant to poisons and diseases, they also made any sort of pain medications completely ineffective. Also, being so directly hardwired to his liver, kidneys, heart, and lungs made any sort of corrective measures extremely hazardous. Sasha had thus far declined to risk tampering with them.

Sasha set his jaw, grit his teeth a bit, and pushed the aching in his body into the back of his mind. His morning commute/run was one of the few simple pleasures he truly enjoyed and so he was unwilling to allow a silly little thing like a set a screaming pain receptors get in the way of that. The bionic Russian obeyed all the relevant traffic laws as he cruised along, with the minor exception of having to vault over a small blue compact car as it's driver slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a dog, which in fact turned out to be just a blowing bit of newspaper. A few turns and stop lights later, and Sasha arrived at the construction site that had been his workplace for the last several weeks.

"Hey, early today, aren't ya comrade?" The voice called from the small portable office structure set off to the side. Sasha's immediate supervisor and site foreman, Daniel Ramirez, was adjusting his hard hat and orange vest as he emerged from the tiny administrative structure. Daniel was a bit rough around the edges when it came to his people skills, but he had fought hard to help Sasha get hired when the company first hesitated to hire an augmented human for fear of union complications.

"Dah, was, how do you say, rough night." Sasha sauntered up to Ramirez as the foreman finished buckling on his tool belt.

"Well go ahead and get clocked in, you if you can move those girders to the west side of the building while the others trickle in that will help us get a head start on today's list." Ramirez gestured to the stack of huge metal beams.

"Right. I am on it."

With that, Sasha set himself to work. His job title was technically "Operations Specialist." What this really meant was "Human Forklift." Sasha's massive metal limbs and other bodily reinforcements allowed him to lift phenomenal loads with no difficulty. He had been tested when he arrive in the states, and was rated at being able to lift about 100 tons without damaging himself. Impressive by even superhero standards. As he moved the heavy metal beams one by one Sasha hummed a tune from his homeland. Despite the persistent aching the labor provoked in his body, he enjoyed the sense of accomplishment the work gave him. He felt that by building things in a world where so many forces were bent on destruction he was, in his way, making a difference.


	2. Chapter 2

A cheerful early afternoon sun was shining down on Millennium City. The towering concrete and glass skyscrapers of downtown glittered like gems in the light. A light breeze kissed the city streets. For most of the citizens going about their daily lives it was a pleasant, if a bit warm, summer afternoon.

Down at the construction site, it was a slightly different story. There was little shade to be had among the bare bones of what would eventually be another towering office building. Large cranes moved immense steel girders to the upper stories. Below various examples of heavy equipment roared as they moved immense loads of dirt and other materials, belching diesel fumes as they helped the fledgling structure take form. Dirt, grime, and concrete dust coated most surfaces as man and machine worked together to give rise to another towering structure among the other giants looming over downtown. Among the lumbering vehicles a smaller, but no less imposing, figure moved to and fro. Sasha, accompanied by his supervisor, made their way up the structure to the tenth floor where the powerfully construction cyborg had been working.

Sasha growled as a particularly stubborn steel beam refused to slip into place properly in it's slot among the tenth story's other structural supports. It was easier for the mechanical Russian to get into tight quarters than any of the heavy machinery, especially on the upper stories of a project, and so as a building took form and grow in height Sasha tended to climb into the sky with it. Sasha leaned into the beam and planted his palms on the support and tried to push it into a fully upright position. His mechanical arms clanked and rattled as he applied a portion of his significant strength, but the girder stubbornly remained at a slightly skewed angle. After several moments Sasha took a step back from the skewed support and shrugged at Daniel Ramirez, the site foreman.

"See? I could force beam into place. But that would maybe damage ceiling or bend beam. Is no good in either case. I think support was cut a few centimeters too long."

Ramirez nodded wordlessly and peered at the support. He circled it a couple of times, pacing slowly. Sasha stood by patiently, absent mindedly clicking his metal fingers together. Ramirez stopped pacing and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he flipped through several sheets of paper attached to his clip board. After a couple of moment he let out an annoyed growl and turned to Sasha.

"Aight here's what we do. I need you to go downstairs and get a couple of temp braces and fix 'em in place to prop up the floor above. This support here isn't a major one so we can use some temporary supports while we get this beam cut down to size. While you do that I'll get Jackson and Perry up here with the plasma torch to cut the beam to fit. After they're done you should be able to slip this pinche' thing into place and get back to doing what you do."

"Got it."

Sasha wiped the sweat from his brow with an already grimy red rad he had tucked into his belt and headed back towards the open air lift that would take him back to the ground floor. Ramirez remained behind, talking on the radio and calling for the torch crew to come to the tenth story. As the rickety contraption clattered slowly downwards to the ground Sasha stared out at the city he was helping to build. Detroit had, some years prior to Sasha's arrival, been nearly wiped off the map by a superhuman megalomaniac named Doctor Destroyer. His army of killer robots and giant super weapons had only barely been driven back by the combined forces of all the city's heroes and allied military forces. Even then many lives had been lost and much of Detroit had been left a smoking ruin.

Sasha admired the manner in which the renamed Millennium City had risen from the ashes of the old city after such devastation, and was quietly proud to be a part of its ongoing growth. Construction ran in Sasha's blood, even before the traumatic transformation which granted him his strength. Sasha's father had worked in construction before him and considering the difficulty in finding jobs in Kursk, the city in western Russia he had grown up in, it was an easy decision to follow his father into the same line of work. Work was steady, and the family never wanted for a warm meal. Not everyone in the country could claim to be so fortunate.

Sasha broke away from his thoughts as the utility lift completed its descent and rattled to a halt. He stepped off and walked across the open construction yard over to where there was a pile of angled heavy metal poles that could be used as temporary supports. Several of Sasha's co workers waved and called out to him as he passed. He gave them a casual nod and a brief wave as he moved past them to where the braces were piled up. He got along well enough with most of his crew. There had been some initial tension when he was hired due to his cybernetic enhancements. The union had been concerned about a "mechanical superman" replacing less powerful workers. There had been some question as to why such a super powered individual wasn't doing 'hero work' instead of 'taking jobs from regular folks.' In the end the union had been convinced that Sasha's presence would not be taking any jobs away from other workers and everyone eventually relaxed. That was about a year ago. The bionic Russian still kept to himself mostly on reflex though. He remained self conscious about his unusual appearance and instinctively kept a certain distance with what he considered 'normal folks.'

Sasha reached the pile of metal braces and crouched down to begin stacking several of them neatly across his shoulders. Each brace was roughly fifteen feet long and while their weight was of no concern to the mechanically enhanced man he was working out in his head the best way to balance them while carrying them back up to the tenth floor. The lift would be tricky and might not be able to handle the added weight. Sasha growled at the prospect of having to climb ten flights of stairs while balancing a couple of tons of metal on his shoulders.

Sasha's thoughts were interrupted by unnerving high pitched metallic snapping sound from high overhead. It was loud enough to be heard even above the rattling of the other construction equipment. He lifted his gaze up towards the source of the sound, as did several of his co workers. High above the construction yard a tall stationary crane had been erected to assist in moving steel support beams and large square concrete slabs to the higher stories as they were assembled. One such concrete slab, easily twenty feet across, was dangling from the crane's lift cable. Another shrill, reverberating popping sound came from the cable. Sasha could see the tightly wound metal cord fraying as some more of the smaller strands began to give way. The crane operator could just barely be seen inside, frantically struggling with the crane's controls. The rest of the crew on the ground saw it too and scrambled to clear the area. Everyone except Jack Parker, that is. Jack was, ironically, using a jack hammer to break up the remaining chunks of concrete that made up the foundation of the site's previous structure. Like a good worker he was wearing his noise cancelling ear muffs. Between those and the pounding of the pneumatic jack hammer in his hands he had no way of hearing the cable as it began to snap, nor the panicked warning shouts of his co workers.

Sasha dropped the metal braces, letting the clatter semi-melodically to the ground, and launched himself towards Jack. His gear-and-chain-driven body ratcheted to full power with a thought. Small jets of steam spurted from his shoulders as he sprinted towards his hapless coworker. Before the bionic Russian had cleared three steps the last of the strands holding the concrete slab snapped, letting the monolith fall freely. Jack noticed the sudden motion and looked up to see the Sasha barreling towards him. He gave a wide-eyed and confused look, then glanced at his co workers who were howling and waving and pointing at the sky in warning. Finally realizing where the danger lay, Jack looked up, only to see his doom plunging towards him from above.

Sasha considered tackling Jack to knock him out of the way, but he knew that hitting Jack at full speed like this would kill him just as surely as the free falling slab of concrete. Instead the cyborg dug in his feet and slid to a halt standing right up against his bewildered cohort as as he ducked and threw his hands over his head. Sasha raised his arms high over both of their heads, hands spread wide.

A fraction of a second later the concrete floor section crashed to the ground, slamming down on top of both Sasha and Jack. The slab shattered into a pile of rubble with a thunderous impact. A cloud of dust, dirt, and grey powder was thrown up in all directions, obscuring the entire area. The crew looked on with horrified expressions frozen on their faces as the plume of dust washed over them. For a long moment no one could see a thing, and no one dared move until the dust settled enough to see. Daniel Ramirez appeared a moment later, panting and heaving after having sprinted down several flights of stairs.

"What happened?" Ramirez demanded.

"The crane. Its cable snapped."

Daniel looked around, rubbing his face and neatly trimmed black mustache nervously. Then he noticed something missing.

"Where's Petrovich? I had sent him down here for some braces."

One of the crewmen pointed at the pile of rubble.

"Jack was working there, her was under the slab when it fell. Petrovich ran towards him and..."

They all stopped and stared at the crumbled concrete pile.

"Oh my god..." someone murmured.

The pile of grey rubble shifted slightly. The crew gasped in surprise as a large flat piece of slab was heaved and tossed aside, revealing Sasha and Jack Parker. Both were completely covered in tiny chunks of shattered concrete and a thick layer of grey dust. Parker was still huddled with his hands over his head. Sasha was panting heavily. His shirt and vest were badly torn, especially on his back, and he had suffered several deep cuts on his torso legs and shoulders which bled freely. Regardless, both men were alive.

A collective shout of triumph and relief went up among the gathered construction crew. Ramirez tossed his clip board and joined the rest of the crew as they clamored over pile of rubble to help Jack and Sasha get clear. Sasha waved off any attempts to assist him and hauled himself out of the concrete and over to a short stack of wooden beams where he wearily sat down. Daniel Ramirez walked over to where Sasha was sitting. He gave the Russian a curious, concerned look.

"That was incredible man! We all thought you two were goners."

"Dah. Can see how you might have thought that."

"You're bleeding pretty bad man. Don't worry. Paramedics are on the way."

"I am?"

Sasha looked around at himself. He often overlooked what he considered minor injuries, although his definition of minor was pretty broad. In fact he was prone to not even notice such injuries over the background discomfort he felt on a persistent basis. Exerting himself in a sudden manner like that caused his whole body to throb, and Sasha was finding it difficult to concentrate on his foreman's worried words.

A moment later a still dazed Jack Parker was lead over to where Sasha was seated by a small group of crew members. He grabbed Sasha's big metal hand in both of his and shook it fervently.

"Thank you man! Thank you so much! I'd be... oh man... so dead if you hadn't..."

Sasha smiled broadly as Jack stammered over his words.

"It is nothing, Jack. Just glad I could help."

"I've never seen you move that fast!" one of the crew members commented.

"Normally do not have to move so fast." Sasha chuckled in reply.

By now the crane operator had descended form the control box high above. He was clearly upset and was almost too flustered to speak clearly for several moments. Eventually Ramirez cut him off.

"What happened up there?"

"I dunno, the controls just stopped responding." The operator responded.

"What about the cable? We did a full safety check on that whole rig before we started this contract."

"I know! I was there myself when it was done. After the controls stopped working I heard something. Sounded like some kind of buzzing sound, like a wasp or a bee, then the cable started to snap."

Sasha eyed the crane from his perch on the stack of wood. The snapped cable was swaying gently in the breeze. What had caused the cable to snap like that. The company Sasha worked for had an impeccable safety and maintenance record with regards to their heavy equipment. As answers were not to be had at the moment, he shrugged and waited for the paramedics to arrive so he could stop bleeding all over everything.


End file.
